


Tough Love

by iselsis



Series: Whump"tober" 20"20" [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: (Catherine), BACK FROM SICK LEAVE LIKE JASON FROM HIS GRAVE, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, COVID BE SCREWED, Failed escape, Fear Of Rape/Non-Con, Fix-It, Gen, Good Bro Dick Grayson, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, I AM GOING TO FINISH WHUMPTOBER IF IT KILLS ME, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jason Todd Gets A Hug, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Smol Jason Todd, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27775414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iselsis/pseuds/iselsis
Summary: Jason find his mother dead on the bathroom floor, but his grief is interrupted when a strange man breaks into his apartment and kidnaps him.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Series: Whump"tober" 20"20" [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950982
Comments: 94
Kudos: 670
Collections: THE RAD JASON TODD FOLDER





	Tough Love

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I was _trying_ to finish the Thanksgiving special, which is a bit late, but then this happened. I am going to finish whumptober if it KILLS ME. For those of you who don't know, I got covid in October and spent about a month with a brain of alphabet soup before I realized that even though I'd not been that bad and I'd recovered, covid was the cause of said soup and I started some meds for it. That was sometime last week, and a week ago today was when they first really started working.

“Mom! Mom, wake up!” Jason screamed, shaking her shoulder, but she wasn’t waking up, and she was so _cold_ , and the needle was on the floor next to her, and the syringe was empty, and she finally did it, she was dead, she was dead, she was dead! “Mama, please! Please don’t leave me!”

Jason fell against her chest—her cold, still chest—and clung with both fists to her stained yellow sweater.

“Mom!” he sobbed, pleading. “Mama, no!”

He curled up into her body, clutching tightly like he could keep her with him if he just held tightly enough, but it was too late. She was gone, and it was all his fault. He’d seen the doses get larger and larger, and the time between her highs get shorter and shorter until there was nothing and she wouldn’t eat or drink or make sure that they had money and food, but he didn’t do _anything_ except make sure they had enough money to afford rent _and_ her drugs.

There was a slight creak of wood behind him, and Jason snapped his head up with a panicked gasp. Was it her dealer? A thief? How had they gotten in their apartment without Jason hearing him?

Jason held his breath and crouched protectively in front of his mother, his heart pounding. Maybe the person would just move past the bathroom. The lights were off, and the only light in the room came from the streetlamp near the window, so there was no indication that there was anyone inside to threaten or hurt. They could just take what money Jason had left in the tin can in his bedroom and leave. He bit his lip hard as he heard the footsteps coming closer and closer until a large figure came to a stop in the doorframe.

Jason froze, praying to whatever god might exist that whoever the man was would take their money and go.

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” the man asked, his voice hoarse and wobbling with emotion as he took a half step toward them.

Jason flinched back, but didn’t move from his place in front of his mother. The man stopped just outside the shaft of light from the window and sighed wetly.

“I was too late,” the man spat. “I didn’t realize the date until…”

That tone of anger and frustration was so familiar. Jason _knew_ that voice, distorted by tears, and he knew the outline of that body and the deep shadows of the face he’d seen a thousand times. 

Jason inhaled sharply. How was his dad here? He was in jail. He was gonna be in jail till Jason was twelve at _least_. Had he escaped? Had the police let him go for some reason?

Jason’s fingers curled tighter into his mother’s sweater, his fist pushing against the stiff, cold flesh below it, and his questions melted away. He didn’t _care_ how his dad was there, just that he _was_ there and not blaming Jason for killing his mom. His dad had come back for them.

Jason leaped up and slammed into his dad, throwing his arms around the man’s waist and burying his head in his dad’s shirt. His dad stumbled back and hesitated, but then put his arms around Jason and squeezed him just as tight. 

“Sh-she!” Jason wasn’t even sure what he was trying to say. She was gone. Mom was gone _forever_ , and he was never ever going to get her back. He couldn’t daydream that she’d go to rehab and get clean, or that Batman would find all the drug dealers in Gotham and lock them up so that she’d _have_ to get clean, because she was _dead_.

Jason sobbed helplessly into his dad’s chest, his cries rising to screaming pitch as they tore mercilessly out of him. Dad tucked Jason under his chin and enveloped Jason with his body in a protective, fierce way he never had before, and just held him for what felt like forever. 

When all the tears he could cry had been wrenched out of him, Jason sniffled and slumped against his father, wishing he could just be absorbed and never have to move again. He felt empty, all hollowed out in the middle like he’d died too. He should have died instead of her. It was all his fault. 

Dad rubbed a circle into his back and squeezed him even tighter. “What are you going to do now?”

Jason made a half-hearted attempt at asking what he meant, but his throat was too thick with snot and tears for it to be more than a questioning gurgle.

“Without your parents. What’s your plan?” Dad asked.

Jason frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Was Dad _leaving_? Were the cops after him? He could take Jason with him if that were the case! Jason would be good! He was already good at picking pockets and shoplifting, and he was _sure_

Dad took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was nearly clear of grief. “You can’t stay here long, kid.”

Jason tensed and stopped breathing.

That wasn’t his dad’s voice. 

Without the hoarseness and tears, that _wasn’t_ his dad’s voice.

Slowly, like the air was made of lead, Jason tilted his head back to look up at the man holding him. The man had moved just slightly forward, enough that half his face was lit by the dim glow of the streetlamp.

That wasn’t his dad.

Jason screamed and tried to jump back, but his throat was too full for the sound to go far and the man grabbed him by the shoulders and held him firmly, even as Jason struggled wildly.

“I’m not going to hurt you; calm down,” the man said, his voice level, but it was like the calm before the storm, or the quietness of his dad—his _real_ dad—drinking before he started getting pissed at every little thing and beating everyone.

“Let me go!” Jason begged, frantically pulling against the man’s hands. “Please, please let me go!”

The man tightened his grip on Jason, his strong fingers digging into the flesh of Jason’s shoulders. “So you can run off to the streets? You’ve got nowhere to go, and you’re too little and weak to be out there.”

“My dad is coming home soon, and he’ll kill you if you hurt me!” Jason shrieked. 

It was a lie that burned in his throat and his eyes. The man’s face darkened and the pressure on Jason’s shoulders turned painful for just a second. Jason flinched and his throat tightened in panic.

“Your dad isn’t coming to save you. No one is coming to save you,” the man growled, and there was the storm, edging into his voice. 

“H-he-” The intensity in the man’s eyes, shrouded in shadow, cut him off, and Jason could only imagine one reason the man would be staring so closely at Jason and holding so tightly to his body.

“Help me! Someone, help, please!” Jason screamed, louder than he had before. Loud enough that someone might have heard him. “He-”

The man swore and clapped a hand over Jason’s mouth, but that meant that he was only holding one shoulder. Jason threw himself down and sideways, away from the hand holding him. The man hadn’t been expecting it and hadn’t had time to tighten his hold, and Jason crashed hard to the floor.

The only way out was through the door blocked by the man’s body, so without hesitating, Jason scrambled to his feet and tried to run past the man. He got two steps before the man grabbed him and slammed him _hard_ against the doorframe. 

Jason screamed again, and the man clapped his hand over Jason’s mouth so fast that Jason’s head cracked against the wood. Jason didn’t give up though—giving up was death or _worse_. He started to lift a foot to plow into the man’s balls, but the man saw it coming and pressed in against Jason’s body so quickly that Jason couldn’t raise his foot fast enough. 

Jason growled and bit the hand over his mouth. It tasted of dust and sweat, and did nothing more than annoy his attacker.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?” the man snapped, angling two of his fingers under Jason’s jaw and pressing up to keep him from being able to open it anymore. “I’m trying to _help_ you.”

Jason growled and dug his fingernails into the man’s hand. The man snatched his wrist with his free hand and wrenched it down beside his hip, but Jason just started gauging hand on his mouth with _his_ free hand. 

The man scowled and dragged him roughly forward. Jason’s heart leapt, but instead of moving to the front door or one of the bedrooms, the man forced him down onto the ground right there in the bathroom and kept him there with a knee to the back.

He pulled his hand off Jason’s mouth, and Jason snapped his head around to scream again, but came eye to eye with the sightless eyes of his mother’s corpse. The scream died in his throat with a whimpering cry.

There was a jangle of metal and a scuff of fabric, but it wasn’t until the man started wrapping a thick leather strap around Jason’s arms that he realized that the man had _taken off his belt_. Jason was going to be raped right there on the floor beside his mother’s corpse, and he couldn’t do anything but stare into her vacant eyes. 

The man fastened the buckle halfway up Jason’s forearms, far from where he might be able to open it himself, then stood up. Jason flinched hard and his eyes welled with tears he didn’t know he had left, waiting for the thud of pants hitting the floor, but the man just bent down and shoved his hands under Jason’s arms, then hauled him to his feet.

The man knelt spun Jason around and grabbed Jason’s chin between his fingers, then tilted it up so that he could see Jason’s face. Jason spat in it, and the man glared as he swiped his cheek. Jason only mostly hid a flinch. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, kid,” the man growled in the _least_ reassuring tone ever, like he thought Jason _didn’t_ know what grown men did with little boys.

“My head hurts!” Jason snapped. 

The man’s face twitched slightly with what almost looked like regret, but the expression was gone as quickly as it had come. “You surprised me. I didn’t mean to push you so hard, but don’t do that again.”

“Just let me go!” Jason cried, tears spilling down his cheeks. His whole face felt like a soggy, gross mess, and he just wanted the man to go away so he could curl up with his mom one more time and hope that everything went back to normal when he woke up.

“And then what?” the man demanded. He had the nerve to sound _annoyed_ at Jason. “The only place worse than the streets is foster care, and you’re never going to stay in foster care.”

“You don’t know me!” Jason aimed a kick at the man’s knee, but the man just grabbed Jason’s shoulder and yanked him off balance. Jason had to stumble to catch himself, and the man tightened his grip almost painfully.

“You’re not going to the street, kid,” the man grunted, fixing him with that intense gaze again. “Not this time.”

“I can take care of myself,” Jason snarled, the effect of his words and tone ruined by how miserably helpless he was in the man’s hands and the tears running down his face.

The man scoffed bitterly. “And how well did that ever work out for you?”

Jason’s breath caught at that, and he flinched back like he’d been physically hurt because it was _true_. He was so useless that he couldn't even make his _mom_ stay alive, and the man knew it. His chest shook painfully with restrained sobs, but he wouldn’t let the man see how much that _burned_.

The man huffed awkwardly, like he might have felt guilty about mocking a little kid about his dead mom _in front of her body_ , but Jason couldn’t see his face around the tears in his eyes. He couldn’t see the hand, either, until it settled around Jason’s shoulders in a mockery of the hug from earlier. 

Jason thrashed and screamed against the hold, and the man grumbled, but released Jason except for a hand on his arm. 

“I shouldn’t have said that. You did everything you could have to save her, but she was gone long before you could have done anything about it,” the man said, sounding begrudgingly sincere. “Come on, we’ve got to get moving.”

The man turned and started to pull Jason out of the bathroom and out into the living room, toward the front door, away from his mom, away from his home. 

“No!” Jason screamed and threw himself backwards quick enough to catch the man off guard. 

Without his hands to balance, he toppled and would have fallen if the man had not grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him forward.

“Would you _stop_ that? I’m not going to hurt you,” the man snapped.

Jason shook his head desperately and tearfully shrieked, “Please, I can’t leave her like this, I have to take care of her, please don’t-”

The man shoved his hand over Jason’s mouth again, cutting off his cries. Jason struggled against him, but the man wrapped one arm around Jason’s torso, pulling him up to his chest and turning from the door back toward the kitchen.

“You’ve _got_ to shut up,” the man growled. “There’s nothing more you can do for her, and you can’t stay here.” 

Jason thrashed and tried to bite, but the man had gotten wise the last time and kept Jason’s jaw clamped shut as he hauled him into the kitchen and flicked the light switch.

Jason’s eyes burned at the sudden light, and he found himself blinking spots away as he was dragged across the room. 

A drawer rolled open, and Jason froze. They were in the corner of the kitchen right where Mom kept— _had_ kept—the knives. Was the man going to stab Jason if he didn’t behave? Cut his tongue out?

The man closed the drawer again and set Jason on his feet. Jason spun around to face him, heart hammering, looking for the knife but not finding anything more dangerous that the man’s glower. 

Jason swallowed hard at his first good look at the man, though with the way the man kept his back to the one flickering lightbulb in the kitchen, his face was still shadowed. 

It was no wonder that Jason had mistaken the man for his dad. They could have been brothers. They had the same strong jaw, the same build, the same cheekbones, the same black hair, and the same scowl. This man’s eyes were different though, green enough that Jason could tell the color even through the shadows.

“Alright, kid. One more chance. Are you going to be quiet, or are you going to try screaming again?”

Jason opened his mouth to try screaming again, but the man was faster, and before Jason could do anything, his mouth was stuffed with coarse fabric and the faint tastes of soap and dirty dishwater. 

The man left Jason choking and trying to spit the dry washcloth out of his mouth for just long enough to get something out of another cabinet and come back. He pushed the rag back into Jason’s mouth, then started pulling on the thing in his hand. Jason glanced down at it and found the man tearing a plastic grocery bag.

Jason leaned back as far as he could, turning his face and breathing as deeply as he could before the man could try to smother him with the bag. 

The man reached up and used the grocery bag, now split into one long piece, to tie the gag in place. Jason closed his eyes and tried to stop crying.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but I’m pressed for time-” The man snorted a laugh there at some inside joke that only he got. “-and I can’t explain. This is for your own good, so stop fighting.”

Jason gave him a look of as much spite and hatred as he could muster. The man sighed and shook his head.

“Fine. Whatever, I don’t care, but you’re coming with me.” 

With that, he grabbed Jason around the waist and tossed him over his shoulder, then carried him out the door and down the stairwell without anyone coming out of their apartment to stop him. No one had heard Jason screaming, or no one had cared. 

The man carried him from the building to the street. The wind was cold against Jason’s bare arms and feet, cold like his mother. Jason shuddered deeply, only a little from the cold.

Jason bounced on the man’s hard shoulder as the man walked briskly across the street and down a block, all without anyone noticing or caring, to a dark alley. Jason didn’t understand why the man would leave the privacy of the apartment for an open ended alley if he wanted to rape Jason, but that was before he saw the car.

His heart sank when he saw it. He was going to either be murdered, or kept for years like those kids he’d heard about from time to time who eventually actually thought they _liked_ their kidnapper. Jason was going to keep fighting and never giving in, so the man was going to get tired of him quickly and kill him. Unless stuff like that turned him on.

The man opened the trunk and set Jason inside, then tossed in something that _thunk_ ed against the floor and slammed the trunk shut without a word, leaving Jason in utter blackness. A minute later, the car started and pulled out of the alley.

Jason curled up miserably. It was so dark, and so tight in there, and he was going to die, and mom was already dead because Jason was so horrible and got her drugs for her even when he knew they hurt her because he was stupid and weak and couldn’t handle watching her in withdrawal.

His entire body trembled with grief and terror until he was sobbing again, but then suddenly he couldn’t breathe because there was too much snot in his nose and his mouth was full of a dishrag. He thrashed and slammed the walls of the trunk with his feet, trying to alert the man that he was dying, but the man ignored him and kept driving.

It was nearly a minute until his nose drained down his throat enough that Jason could breathe again, and the little oxygen he could get down did little to satisfy his burning lungs. He didn’t know how long it was until his shallow breaths deepened enough that he didn’t feel like he was dying, but it felt like forever. 

It all made him want to cry again, but he forced himself to think of other things. The itchy upholstery on his neck, arms, feet, and ankles that showed from his too small pajama pants.

The thing the man had tossed in after him rolled against his thigh, and Jason finally shifted so he could grab it with his toes. It took a bit of feeling around before he found the button and realized what it was. He pressed it with the toe of one foot while holding it with the toes of the other. 

The beam of the flashlight was bright, but thin. Still, it was better than the pitch black emptiness he’d had before. It didn’t feel like the trunk was caving in on him so much anymore, and his chest felt a bit less tight. At least the asshole had been considerate enough to not leave him in complete darkness the whole ride. 

They drove for what felt like forever. Jason was sure that they weren’t in Gotham anymore, at least, as the city sounds faded from a roar to a whisper and then silence except for the roll of tires on asphalt below him and the purr of the engine. Jason focused on feeling numb so he wouldn’t cry again.

When the car finally did stop, Jason heard the man open and shut the driver’s door, but it was another long time until the trunk was opened.

Jason used his toes to throw the flashlight at the man before he could be grabbed. The flashlight bounced harmlessly off the man’s thigh and landed soundlessly outside the car. The man just fixed Jason with the most unimpressed look imaginable before bending down and tucking the flashlight, turned off, into his pocket. 

“Relax. You’re going to be fine. Now turn around, I need to fix that belt,” the man ordered him.

Jason scowled at him and did _neither_ of those things. He pointedly tensed more and pressed himself as firmly as he could into the floor of the trunk.

The man heaved another long-suffering sigh, like he was the one being put upon, and reached into the trunk. He grabbed one of Jason’s shoulders and rolled him none to gently onto his stomach, pinning him in place with one massive hand. A minute later, the belt came loose of his wrists, and his hands throbbed painfully as blood began to flow back into them. The man rubbed at Jason’s palms and wrists to encourage the blood flow before he flipped Jason back over and grabbed both his wrists in one giant hand. Jason tried to pull away, it was too late. 

The man tied his wrists in front of him, then hauled him out of the car and set him on his feet. They were in a forest, surrounded by the shadows of trees and probably anyone who could hear him and would help. The only light was the small patches of moonlight that managed to break through the leaves above them. 

“Alright, I disabled the security system, so it should be smooth sailing from here,” the man said, and Jason had _no_ idea what he was talking about, but if he thought to hard about it, he was going to cry again, so he didn’t.

There wasn’t a real path, but the man led Jason by the neck in a very particular direction until a patch of shadows darker than the rest loomed into view very shortly. Jason could make out the abrupt end of the treeline beyond it. A wall, he realized, about ten feet high and going as far as Jason could see in the moonlight on both sides. There was no gate in view, but that was obviously the destination.

When they reached the wall, the man knelt, and, without bothering to ask when he knew Jason wouldn’t comply, pulled Jason’s bound wrists over the man’s head so that the belt would keep Jason from falling off or getting away.

“Alright, kid. If I fall, I am landing on top of you, so you’re going to want to behave for about thirty seconds. If you _like_ having a working set of internal organs and don’t want to be squashed to death, put your legs around my waist and hold on as best you can,” the man instructed him.

Jason hesitated. He didn’t want to obey and let the man win, or let the man carry him closer to where the man wanted him to be. The man was probably going to climb up the wall no matter what Jason did, though, and being crushed by having a massive pedophile dropped on top of him sounded too miserable a way to go. After a few moments of arguing with himself, Jason kicked the man as hard as he could to show that he was _not_ obeying because the man _said to_ , then did as he was told and wrapped his arms around the man’s waist.

The man walked right up the wall, took a moment to find a handhold, then started climbing. It was only a few seconds before he was at the top, and then he jumped down, landing in a crouch on the other side with Jason on his back.

The man stood up like it was nothing and started walking again in a very particular direction toward absolutely nothing, slipping his hands under Jason’s legs to support them and carrying him piggyback. 

The night was still pitch black, but the expansive grounds before him were nearly barren of trees, and the moonlight was bright enough that Jason could make out the shadow of what had to be a mansion. They were in _Bristol_.

Jason buried his face in the back of the man’s neck and focused on taking careful, measured breaths. He didn’t want to cry again. He didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction, and he didn’t want to die like that. The man was rich, though, and he had a great big house that probably had a hundred places for him to lock Jason up and never get caught, and there was a giant wall everywhere he could see. He was going to be a whore for the man for the rest of his life.

He tried so hard, but tears pricked his eyes anyway, and slowly rolled down Jason’s cheeks onto the man’s neck and shirt. He sniffed hard and blinked rapidly to try to stop, but it was hopeless and he failed miserably at that like he’d failed at everything else.

The man raised one hand from supporting Jason’s thigh to awkwardly clap him on the back. “Hey, calm down. You’re going to…like it here. Really, it’s fine. Safe.”

Jason couldn’t argue because he was still gagged and trying not to asphyxiate on his own tears, but he knocked his head hard into the man’s. It probably hurt him a lot worse than it hurt his captor, but it did make the man swear and stumble. 

Jason smirked through his pain as he waited for retaliation, but the man didn’t do anything except start walking again. Jason’s stomach sank. The man was going to make him pay for that later, then.

When they reached the front porch a few minutes later, the man shrugged Jason off and set him on his bare feet on the bitingly cold stone, but took a fistful of the back of Jason’s pajama shirt to keep him from running as the man fished a key from his pocket and let himself in. 

The inside of the mansion was pitch and cavernous as the man pulled Jason inside and the door swallowed him like a grave, but it was at least a bit warmer than the outside had been. Jason shuddered, trying to shake some of the warmth into his body as the man hauled Jason across the dark entrance toward a flight of stairs. Jason couldn’t see the stairs well, but he could feel the short carpet running up them. His toes dug into the warmish fibers, a welcome departure from the freezing air and frigid stone and cold marble they’d been subjected to in the hour or so since his kidnapping. 

The man set a brisk pace, pulling Jason along so fast that his only options were to keep up or be dragged along the floor through the maze of halls. Jason went completely deadweight and just hung there from the man’s grasp, glaring at him spitefully. The man scowled back and tossed Jason over his shoulder. The hard muscles of the man’s shoulder hit Jason squarely in the stomach so hard that he thought he was about to throw up and drown in his own bile and stomach acid. He took deep, shuddering breaths until the nausea stopped, and by then, the man had turned another corner and stopped.

He dumped Jason onto his feet once more, then wrapped his meaty fingers around Jason’s bicep again to keep him from running. Jason looked past him to try to see where they were.

The lights were off, but the window at the end of the hall basked the corridor in pale silver moonlight, showing a row of doors on each side that could only be bedrooms. It was time. The man was doing it, right now, with Jason.

Jason lunged back the way they’d come as fast and suddenly as he could, but the man held him tight and started walking down the hall. Jason went deadweight again and started flailing, slamming his feet against the wall and floor in protest.

“Cut it out, brat.” The man grabbed Jason’s other arm too and held him up so that he was forced to stand. “You’re about to meet your new daddy; shape up.” 

Jason screamed in defiance through the gag. He _wasn’t_ calling that man Daddy _ever_. He was _not_ obeying. He was going to be horrible even if the man beat him for it, and if he tried to shove anything into Jason’s mouth, Jason was _biting it off_.

The man huffed in annoyance. “Just shut up, will you? This is for your own damn good, Jason.”

Ice ran down his spine and Jason _froze_. He’d never told the man his name. He’d never seen the man before in his life. The man wasn’t just an opportunist who’d happened to find Jason at the worst possible time. He was a _stalker_ who’d been waiting for a chance to kidnap Jason. He’d been _prepared_.

Another realization slapped him in the face like a ton of bricks. The man had _known_ to be in the apartment that night. He’d _known_ that Jason’s mom was going to be dead, right from the start. The drugs… Her drugs could have easily been laced with something. Her dealer must have known she wasn’t going to last much longer, and would have done it if he’d been paid enough. 

Jason’s eyes welled with tears and he couldn’t _care_ anymore if he died. He _wanted_ to die, to go be with his mom instead of being raped by the man who’d murdered her, but he wasn’t dying fast enough, and the man started to pull him forward again, toward a door, and-

“Who the _hell_ are you?” boomed an angry voice.

The light flicked on without warning, blinding Jason for a moment, and he gave a muffled scream of terror. There were _more_ of them. Was this a brothel? Or had the man brought him home to share the little boy he’d orphaned with his friends?

The man let go of Jason’s arm and spun around. Jason turned slowly too, his movements heavy with dread.

There was a man at the end of the hall. A _huge_ man, even bigger than the man who’d caught him. Everything went blurry with tears, even as he struggled not to let them fall. He was so fucked. It was going to hurt so much.

The new man wasn’t looking at Jason, though. He was glaring at the man behind him. When his gaze flicked down to Jason, his eyes widened and his glare snapped back up to the man, murderous.

“Hey, Bruce,” the man said simply.

The new man, Bruce, growled at him and took a step closer, but the man grabbed Jason’s shoulder and Bruce stopped abruptly. Jason’s eyes flicked from one to the other, not able to find the dynamic. Was Bruce the man’s…brother or something? Bruce had black hair and a strong jaw and build like the man who’d kidnapped him. His heart fluttered with desperate hope. 

Bruce looked _furious_ with the man. Maybe he disapproved of kidnapping and raping little kids, and he would save Jason from the man. 

“ _What_ are you doing here?” Bruce demanded, clenching his massive hands into fists that looked like they could pound through brick walls. 

The man eased his grip on Jason slightly, seemingly not worried at all about the angry man who could pound his head in. If they _were_ brothers, then maybe he didn’t think that Bruce would hurt him. From the tension of Bruce’s muscles and the darkness in his eyes, Jason wasn’t sure if he agreed.

The man scoffed a laugh. “Fucking up the timeline. What else?”

Without warning, he shoved Jason in the back, hard, sending him crashing toward Bruce. He couldn’t get his feet underneath him, though, and was about to fall when Bruce lunged forward and caught him, then pulled him back from the man and into a crushing hug against his chest. Jason couldn’t help but lean into the warmth of his body, the rock-hard muscles tensing in the man’s arms and chest like he was gearing up for a fight. To protect Jason?

“Dick!” Bruce yelled suddenly. 

Jason stiffened, his breathing picking up to a panic. Not to protect Jason, then, but to steal him for himself. Or maybe just to try him out first, and the man who’d killed his mom would still get his chance with Jason, but Bruce made no move to find Jason’s dick or pull out his own. The man who’d caught Jason similarly made no move.

A few seconds later, Jason heard the pounding of feet, and a _third_ person showed up, this one only a few years older than Jason himself. He had a smile on his face until his eyes met Jason’s, then flicked to the man at the end of the hall. The smile faded, and he turned pale and frightened.

“B?” the boy snapped.

“Dick, keep him safe.” Bruce shoved Jason behind him, but the older boy—Dick?—grabbed him before he could collapse in relief. Who was _called that_ anymore?

“What’s going on?” Dick dug his fingers under the shopping bag rope around Jason’s head and tore it off. Jason tried to spit the dishcloth out, but Dick grabbed the corner and pulled it out before Jason could. 

“I’m doing you a favor, Dickhead,” the man at the end of the hall snorted. Dick’s head snapped up, and the older boy shifted slightly so that he was in front of Jason, but so that Bruce was also standing between both of them and the stranger. “Trust me. It works out better for everyone like this.”

“Who are you? What did you do to that boy?” Bruce growled, taking a menacing step forward. 

Jason frowned at the words. Did… Did Bruce and Dick _not_ know the man? Had that guy actually kidnapped a kid and brought him to _somebody else’s_ house to fuck him? Was he _crazy_?

Dick grabbed the belt on Jason’s wrists and quickly untied him, dropping the belt to the floor beside the remains of the gag. Jason shuddered in relief and shock so hard that he went completely boneless. Dick seized him and dragged him up into a hug, holding him tight and protectively. Dick was…a little smaller than Jason’s mom, and wasn’t as soft like her, but he was close enough that if Jason closed his eyes, he could pretend for a moment that it was his mom holding him. Tentatively, Jason wrapped his shaking arms around Dick and clutched the back of his shirt with bloodless, numb fingers.

Jason couldn’t see him, but he could hear when the man started talking, his voice serious. “I didn’t do anything to him except tie him up. His mom just died, and his father’s an abusive asshole. Foster care is a _hellhole_ , so I brought him here to keep him off the streets.”

Jason snapped his head away from Dick’s chest to glare daggers at the man for _lying_ , but let himself be held even tighter. Did that _idiot_ think that anyone believed that he had brought Jason to this mansion in the middle of nowhere so he could be _adopted_? 

Bruce tilted his head up, regarding the man with barely restrained fury. “And what makes you think your son will be safe with me?”

That twisted a dagger in Jason’s chest and he pushed back from Dick to scream, “He’s not my dad! I don’t know him! He’s a freak who kidnapped me and brought me here to _rape_ me!”

The man snorted in agreement. “I’m not the kid’s dad, but I didn’t bring him here to rape him either. I know enough about you, Bruce, and your… _night job_ —” Bruce tensed even more, and Dick gasped behind him “—to know that you’re not going to hurt him. As much as I hate you sometimes, you’re the only one in this whole damn city I’d trust to take care of him.”

“How do you know?” Bruce growled.

The man just laughed, but it sounded harsh and forced. “Funny story about that. Not one that I’m going to tell you, but funny story.”

There was a soft chime, and the man stiffened suddenly and pulled back his sleeve. He narrowed his eyes at the watch around his wrist, then shoved his sleeve back down and waved a farewell at the three of them.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave,” he said, and started walking away down the hall, toward the window and not the stairs. 

Bruce stormed after him, but when the man stopped and turned, he stopped too and regarded the man very carefully.

The man’s face was drawn up in a pained grimace, and he heaved a wobbly sigh. “Keep this one out of spandex and away from the Joker. And his biological mom. If you let _either_ of them near him, you are sending him to a slow and _miserable_ death. You hear me? This bird is grounded. He’s a fucking ostrich, a penguin, I don’t _care_. He stays _home_.”

The man’s eyes glistened, and Jason thought he was about to cry. _Jason_ was crying, and he let Dick place a hand on his back and guide him into another hug. Dick felt so warm and safe, and Jason leaned his head against the older boy’s chest.

“What are you-” 

Before Bruce could finished the question, the man’s expression hardened again, and he turned back around. He opened a door to one of the bedrooms, then slammed it shut behind him. Bruce ran after him, but a flash of blinding light flashed under the door, and the hall shook with a sound like thunder from the bedroom.

Bruce threw open the door and disappeared into the room, emerging a few minutes later with a furious expression. Jason flinched slightly into Dick’s chest, and Bruce stopped. Dick squeezed Jason tightly and pressed a kiss onto his head, and Jason slumped against him.

Bruce softened and took the last few steps to reach them. He placed one hand on Dick’s shoulder, and very slowly reached for Jason’s face. Jason tensed slightly, then relaxed. Bruce had been about to beat up Jason’s kidnapper. He wasn’t going to hurt Jason.

Bruce placed his massive hand against the side of Jason’s face and ran a rough thumb under Jason’s eye, wiping away his tears. Jason closed his eyes and let Bruce leave his protective, warm hand against Jason’s cold face and dry his tears as they fell.

“Who was that?” Dick asked softly after a minute. “Where did he go?”

Bruce hesitated, his thumb pausing on Jason’s skin. Jason tried not to whine, but he frowned deeply and leaned into the touch. Bruce hummed softly and started rubbing circles on Jason’s cheek.

“I don’t know. He teleported away before I could catch him. From the way he spoke…he could have been a time traveler,” Bruce said after another hesitation. Jason didn’t even care. “I have…suspicions, but I don’t think he’s an immediate danger.”

Bruce pause his ministrations again, and Jason opened his eyes to see why. The man was watching him with warm, sad eyes. 

“What’s your name, son?” he asked quietly.

Jason sniffed. “J-Jason.”

Bruce nodded. “Is there any more to that?”

Jason blushed and knuckled under his eye that Bruce hadn’t touched. “J-Jason Todd, sir.”

Bruce smiled at Jason, then his smile faded. “Jason, do you know who that was?”

Jason shook his head, and all his efforts trying to dry his eyes were _useless_ because he was crying even worse than before. He tried to open his mouth to explain the rest, but he choked on his thick throat and just shook his head again.

“Was he telling the truth?” Dick asked, rubbing firm circles in Jason’s back. “About your mom and dad?”

Jason sniffed and nodded. Dick pulled Jason close up against him again and held him there for several minutes as the tears turned into body-wracking sobs. Dick was so _warm_ , but his mom was still lying on their bathroom floor, ice cold and alone because Jason had let her die and let himself be taken. Or because the man had killed her, but why would he kill her and then pull a _stupid_ move by taking Jason to someone else’s house?

When Jason had finally cried himself out _again_ , he felt one of Bruce’s huge hands settling on his shoulder, gently enough that it didn’t hurt where the man had squeezed him hard enough that it was definitely going to bruise.

“My mother and father died when I was about your age,” Bruce said softly. “So did Dick’s.”

Jason sniffed hard and turned slightly to face Bruce. “I’m sorry. Th-that sucks. This _sucks_.” His voice dissolved into more sobs, and he buried his face back into the mess he’d made of Dick’s shirt. “I want my mom!”

Dick sniffled, and _great_ , Jason had made _him_ cry too, because he was a _jerk_. He had to cut it out before he made Dick hurt even more.

It was hard and took a minute, but Jason forced himself to stop crying. He’d already cried too much that night, anyway. If there was a lifetime’s supply of tears, he was pretty sure he would have used his up already, but the sickening emptiness, the _grief_ was still there. There were going to be more tears like this tomorrow, and the next day, and probably forever until he died, because he just _wanted his mom_ so much. She could hug him so well when she was sober that everything would feel better, but now when he needed that hug the most, it was gone forever.

Bruce gently ran his hands through Jason’s hair, and Jason relaxed slowly into the small comfort, but he didn’t know why. 

“Do you have anyone you can go to? Family, friends who will take you in?” Bruce asked him quietly, like if he asked to loudly he’d set Jason off again. He was probably _right_ , but that made him want to cry too. He hated being treated like he was delicate; he hated _being_ delicate. His eyes stung, but no more tears came out.

Jason shook his head and mumbled, “No,” as loudly as the tears in his throat would let him.

Bruce seemed really nice, so he was probably going to take Jason to Social Service instead of just kicking the random kid in his house out onto the streets. Maybe he _would_ kick Jason out just like that, or maybe Jason could convince him to do it, since he was less likely to get trafficked like that. Foster kids without parents were the easiest to get away with stealing, after all. Jason might be able to sneak back into his house and get some supplies before he found some shelter for the night. Shoes and his coat at least. He’d have to walk by the bathroom, though, to get his supplies…

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” Bruce murmured back. “Would you like to stay with us for a while? You don’t have to, but-”

Jason’s breath hitched, and he raised his face to look at Bruce’s. The man seemed so…honest, but he couldn’t really mean it. He couldn’t mean that he was really going to take in some poor kid who’d been kidnapped and dragged into his home in the middle of the night by some creep who’d teleported or time traveled or some freaky shit, but he _looked_ like he _did_. 

Wordlessly, Bruce opened his arms and Jason’s face screwed up. He was going to cry _again_. Dick pulled his arms away from Jason’s body but didn’t move away until Jason took a trembling step toward Bruce, just to make sure he was interpreting the gesture right. Bruce nodded in encouragement, and Jason rushed into the hug and threw his arms around Bruce’s neck. He _was_ crying again, in grief and relief and all the terror that had built up all night. He _wasn’t_ going to be raped, he _wasn’t_ going to be forced out onto the streets right before winter, and he _wasn’t_ going to be alone.

Bruce wrapped his arms tightly around Jason, his grip gentle, but firm and protective too. Jason felt a smaller hand on his back in a warning just a second before Dick wrapped around him from behind, sealing Jason up between the two of them. Despite the fact that these were strange men he’d never met before and who could probably hurt Jason for as long as they wanted without ever getting caught, Jason relaxed and snuggled down into the hold. He didn’t know why, but he trusted them completely. They weren’t going to hurt him, and no one else would be able to tear Jason away from them and hurt him, not while Bruce and Dick held him like this.

“You’re safe now,” Bruce whispered in his ear. “I know it hurts, but you’re going to be okay. I’ve got you.”

Jason cried harder, and Bruce pressed a light kiss against the side of Jason’s face. Dick kissed his hair, and pressed Jason a little tighter, like it was his life’s mission to squish Jason until he felt safe.

It was working.

There, in the arm of strangers, he felt safe.

He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> You know your life is falling apart when you're eating mandarin oranges straight out of the can with knitting needle chopsticks while writing angsty fanfiction at four in the morning. Also, the fact that Big Jason made a gag out of a rag and a bag is hilarious to me, and I didn't even do it on purpose.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fairy Godbrother](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28894842) by [envysparkler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/pseuds/envysparkler)




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